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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29894430">Can’t get you out of my head</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla'>cherryvanilla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>So Emotional [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Angels in America - Kushner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1980s, Affection, Emotional Infidelity, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Healing, M/M, Moving On, Recreational Drug Use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:47:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29894430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They decide to call this next chapter of Prior’s life “A.L.”: After Louis.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Belize | Norman Arriaga/Prior Walter, Belize/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>So Emotional [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can’t get you out of my head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There’s so many possibilities for Prior and Belize’s history, given the descriptor is just “an ex-lover.” So I decided to write yet another take on it, this time inspired by their kiss in the hospital from the Andrew Garfield/Nathan Stewart-Jarrett production.</p><p>Title by Whitney Houston.</p><p>Cover art:<br/></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They decide to call this next chapter of Prior’s life “A.L.”: After Louis. Prior and Belize accidentally coin the phrase while high, a few weeks after he returned to the world, wiser and determined to keep moving. They’re lying perpendicular on Prior’s bed, Belize’s head on Prior’s ribcage. </p><p>“How are you doing, After Louis?” Belize asks. Prior hears the two words like a proper noun, and figures it deserved the old B.C./ A.D treatment, what with how biblical he got recently. </p><p>He tells Belize this, who approves.</p><p>“Fitting. “A.L.”, then. How goes it?”</p><p>“It goes. Settling in.”</p><p>“Well, just think: no more hemorrhoids.”</p><p>“Mmm.” Prior drags his hand over the soft fuzz of Belize’s hair. </p><p>“No more pedantic rambles.”</p><p>Prior sighs. “Yes, okay. It was the only choice to make, but I <i>will</i> actually miss him, you know.”</p><p>“I know, baby.” </p><p>Belize turns his head to meet his eyes. Prior’s breath catches in his throat, immediately thinking of that day in the hospital. Belize had paused before kissing him; Prior hadn’t been able to tell if he had been thinking of Louis ten feet away or his boyfriend ten miles away. </p><p>It had left Prior a little breathless, after. Shaken. He had still been thinking of it when he told Louis he couldn’t ever come back. </p><p>He’s thinking of it right now, the heavy weight of Belize’s head both on his body and beneath his palm. </p><p>Before the hospital and that day on the street, he and Belize hadn’t kissed on the lips in years. They were more the double-cheek or air kiss kind of gays. The last time their lips had touched had been “B.L.”: Before Louis, when they’d made out while stoned. </p><p>Belize’s mouth had remained familiar, though; a tiny jolt of energy as their lips touched, seeping through the already palpable emotions they’d both been feeling that day after the funeral. </p><p>The next time in the hospital had felt more like euphoria; a Phoenix rising from the ash. And so now, “A.L.”, the kisses have returned on a consistent basis. They kiss hello. They kiss when they’re cuddling together on Prior’s bed, watching movies;  it’s more comfortable for his leg than the couch. They kiss goodbye. </p><p>Prior is tired pretty much all the time from the AZT, and Belize’s shoulder and back massages along with the firm yet gentle press of his lips have become a good antidote. </p><p>Belize has turned back to stare at the ceiling. They’re holding hands, as they often do. Belize has this thing about nail polish: if it’s chipped, he has to scratch the rest of it off. He’s currently doing just that to Prior’s index finger; there was no use even trying to get him to stop anymore. </p><p>They’re listening to music on Prior’s tape deck that’s set up on the bedside table, because they're both too lazy and high to constantly get up and cross the room to flip over a record. Prior lets his fingers slide down over Belize’s temple, rubbing softly. </p><p>“Mmm.”</p><p>Prior smiles, ignoring the pull in his stomach. He massages in slow circles with his free hand, while Belize continues to absently chip away at the flakey paint. Prior’s fingers move lower, down around the shell of his ear and to the back of his neck, massaging harder into the warmth of Belize’s skin. </p><p>He slides his hand a little lower, beneath Belize’s shirt and pressing into his shoulder.  He watches Belize exhale, his eyes fluttering shut as he moans again, softly. Prior licks his lips, his own neck feeling hot. </p><p>“You’re too tense, ma pauvre bichette.”</p><p>“Je ne le sais pas!” Belize laughs. “Hazard of the job, sugar.”</p><p>“Mmhmm.” Prior curls his fingertips, working on a knot in Belize’s left shoulder. He groans. “Feel good?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Belize’s voice sounds a little thick. His laces fingers between Prior, squeezing. “You don’t have to, I know you’re tired.”</p><p>“Hush. You do it enough for me.”</p><p>He <i>is</i> tired, and he doesn’t have a lot of strength for a proper massage, but he also doesn’t want to stop. His body feels oddly alive right now, the palpable feel of Belize, all flesh and bones and blood, lighting him up. He’s kind of turned on, despite being completely soft. </p><p>Belize starts playing with his hand again while Prior continues pressing fingertips into Belize’s shoulder blade. Babs is singing Something’s Coming, filling the air with dulcet tones on this rainy March night. It feels like they’re cocooned in Prior’s apartment, the world moving around them but time slowing down in here. Maybe it’s the weed. </p><p>Prior kneads at Belize’s shoulder, then shamelessly moves his hand to his bicep, squeezing. He’s always loved Belize’s muscles. They seem so out of place with the rest of him, yet also make perfect sense. He runs his fingertips around the circumference before moving featherlight back up again. Prior hears a quiet gasp. He opens his own eyes which had fallen shut, glances down at Belize, catches sight of his jeans. </p><p>Oh. So apparently Prior isn’t the only one getting turned on. He licks his lips again, mouth dry. He suddenly wants nothing more than Belize’s mouth on his own again, but also more. So much more. </p><p>It has to be the weed. </p><p>Prior and Belize have hooked up exactly two times. The first was the night they met, at April in Paris. </p><p>(Belize and Prior had both been spectators and weren’t in drag. Turns out the friend Prior had gone with knew Belize and they all started talking.  </p><p>Then his friend spotted some hot young thing and it was just him and Belize. They’d hit it off immediately, and flirted right off the bat. They talked about drag and New York and theater and music. They watched the show side by side, pressed together from shoulder to hip and making catty remarks about some of the queens. </p><p>After the show it was obvious they were going home together. Prior had his own place so it seemed natural to go there. The anticipation of it all probably ruined it from the start. Maybe if they’d hooked up in the alley behind the venue it would have been different. But as it was, they made it to Prior’s modest apartment and just didn’t connect on that level. The kissing had been fine, good even, but everything else was out of sync. They fumbled with each other’s clothes, their limbs got tangled in painful ways, and Belize got intimately acquainted with Prior’s dick and in turn, how long it takes him to get fully hard. </p><p>“I’m trying real hard not to be offended here, sugar.” Belize had said, looking up from between his legs, lips swollen and wet, working his jaw. </p><p>“It’s not you.” </p><p>“You need a finger or something?” </p><p>Prior laughed. “Couldn’t hurt.”</p><p>So Belize fingered him and blew him and rimmed him and Prior eventually came, but it also wasn’t a great end to an already awkward evening. They kissed after, the kissing was good. Belize wasn’t as hard as he had been earlier, but Prior still slid down his body and managed to get him off. The mood was more impatience than hot by that point, and Prior’s very decent blowjob felt overshadowed by the need for it all to just be over. Afterward, they’d laid side by side in silence. </p><p>“Maybe we shouldn’t—”</p><p>“We weren’t really compatible at—”</p><p>They’d turned to look at each other, then burst out laughing. </p><p>“I like you, though.”</p><p>Belize smiled. “I like you, too.”</p><p>“Friends?” Prior stuck his clean hand out. </p><p>Belize laughed again before shaking it. “Friends, ma cherie bichette.”</p><p>“Vous parlez français?”</p><p>“Oui, un peu.”</p><p>“Moi aussi!” </p><p>“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”</p><p>Prior had laughed. “Oh, baby, you know it.”)</p><p>The second time they hooked up had been about four years after the first time and shortly “B.L.” It had not been either of their finest moments, considering Belize had been seeing his current boyfriend for about a year at that point. </p><p>(Mushrooms had been involved, both of their first times doing it. Everything had gotten really hazy and languid and Prior had ended up on his back, Belize pressing him into the couch cushions. They made out for long minutes. It felt better than Prior had remembered, lips catching and dragging, hot and wet. Their bodies pressed together, lazy without any real intent. Then Belize had gotten his thigh between Prior’s leg, achingly hard. Prior had begun grinding up against him until Belize wrenched his mouth away. </p><p>“Fuck, I can’t, ma bébé. Je suis désolé.”</p><p>Prior had blinked through his arousal, nodding, breathing hard. “It’s okay.” The drugs had made everything even more heightened and his body really didn’t want to stop. </p><p>The way Belize had looked down at him, pupils blown wide and bottom lip caught between his teeth, told Prior he felt the same way. </p><p>But they did. They’d gathered themselves up and made brownies together. Then they sat cross legged on the kitchen floor, dunking their dessert in milk and playing truth or dare. </p><p>They never talked about how intensely hot those five or so minutes had been. It was probably best not to think about it.) </p><p>So the fact that Prior is currently wanting to lean forward and down and slide his tongue into Belize’s mouth is not exactly in check with reality. They might be kissing more lately, but Belize still has a boyfriend and the kisses are pretty chaste. Aside from those two occasions, sexual feelings don’t normally arise (no pun intended) between them. </p><p>Prior thinks back to that night of his wet dream, the way he’d told Belize to come over after saying he felt lascivious, the way Belize hadn’t even missed a step. Prior’s not sure what would have happened between them if he had. </p><p>Sometimes he forgets Belize even has a boyfriend. Justyn is a surgeon who works even more than Belize. Their schedules rarely lined up. </p><p>“Sometimes it’s like having a roommate again,” Belize said once. “Except we fuck whenever we actually have the time.”</p><p>Justyn is five years older than them, and supportive of Belize in all ways. He’d encouraged Belize to take up nursing while still being cool with him doing drag. Sometimes Prior felt like he lost himself in his relationship with Louis, like he was now half of a person, and Louis retained the rest of it. He’d changed some to be with him and when he’d left, Prior felt split in two. </p><p>Not in a Plato way; Louis would’ve laughed at the idea of them being soulmates. But he’d lost those pieces of himself over the years, made space for Louis to fit, and now he was still trying to repave the gaps. </p><p>Belize wasn’t like that. He was still entirely himself. You’d never even know he had a boyfriend if he didn’t mention him sometimes. Justyn was merely an extension of Belize. </p><p>Prior moves his hand to the back of Belize’s neck, caressing. Belize shifts to look back up again and there’s something new in his eyes. Uncertainty. It’s not unlike how he looked in his hospital, a little bemused, a lot relieved, yet still unsure. </p><p>They’ve always been so at ease with one another, affectionate and loving while also not being afraid to call each other out on their bullshit. Lately it’s all felt  different; he’s pinned in Belize’s gaze and doesn’t know what comes next. It’s like Prior has seen him with new eyes these past few months, despite his fucked up vision. </p><p>
  <i>if you cannot find your heart’s desire in your own backyard...</i>
</p><p>Belize is still looking at him when he raises Prior’s hand to his lips, kissing gently. </p><p>“Je t’aime.”</p><p>“Je t’aime,” Prior whispers back. </p><p>
  <i>Fuck.</i>
</p><p>Belize clears his throat and sits up. “I should go.”</p><p>Prior wants to protest, drag him back down, take care of his erection that neither of them are talking about.</p><p>“I should sleep,” he replies, because it’s what Belize wants to hear. </p><p>“<i>Yes</i>, you should.” Belize lifts himself off the bed, stretching. Prior pretends not to notice him discreetly adjusting his crotch. When he turns back around he’s perfectly composed. </p><p>“Take your pills in the morning.”</p><p>Prior salutes him and Belize shakes his head, laughing. </p><p>“Ciao, baby.” He pauses, and Prior holds his breath. Then he leans down in slow motion, the sides of their noses lining up as his mustache tickles the skin over Prior’s lips. </p><p>Prior lets out a shaky exhale as their mouths fit together. He feels the tiniest brush of Belize’s tongue against his bottom lip. His eyes slide shut and his own tongue inches out.</p><p>Belize makes a low sound and breaks away. He looks at Prior, eyes a little wide. “You mess me up, ma belle.” </p><p>And then he’s sauntering off, leaving Prior to process those words and these feelings that shouldn't be happening after nine years of friendship. </p><p>He sleeps like shit that night.<br/>
___________________________</p><p>Two months later and another rainy night. Belize is making them dinner and it feels incredibly domestic. Prior sits and chops some vegetables for a salad, his leg hurting too much to keep standing. </p><p>There’s no weed tonight. In fact, they haven’t smoked up together since that night in March. They’ve handled whatever happened there the way they handle most things: by not talking about it. </p><p>“You said you had news,” Prior says, watching Belize’s back as he deftly moves around the kitchen. </p><p>“Uh-huh. Maybe let’s eat first.”</p><p>“So <i>mysterious</i> you’re being!”</p><p>Belize laughs, but it’s strained. They’ve got the radio on, and Belize is absently shaking his hips to What Have You Done for Me Lately. Prior tries and fails not to watch his ass. He shifts between no sex drive at all to a lowkey state of arousal that his body is too tired to do anything about. It’s frankly annoying, moreso because it is pretty much exclusively his best friend who is turning him on. </p><p>Prior had asked Emily about it, the last time he saw her at the outpatient client. He wasn’t about to mention it to any of his and Belize’s mutual friends, and Hannah was still getting used to gay people in general, so she was out. Emily was safe, kind of like a therapist, who she still thinks he should consider seeing. </p><p>“Why now, is what I’m asking. Do you think it could be a rebound thing? Or maybe I’m just not used to going this long without sex?” </p><p>Emily had the nerve to laugh. “Sweetie, that boy slept most of the night right by your side and still showed up bright and early the next morning. The way you two were looking at each other, I’d have thought you already <i>were</i> a couple.”</p><p>So yeah, Emily hadn’t been much help.</p><p>Prior assembles the salad and is done just as Belize finishes up the pasta. </p><p>“Dinner is served, ma cherie bichette.” </p><p>He places the bowl on the table and opens a bottle of wine. </p><p>“Not too much for you.” </p><p>Prior rolls his eyes. “Yes, nurse.”</p><p>Belize pours each of them a glass and then it’s a choreographed dance of pulling the food onto their plates, passing the cheese, the pepper. The radio is still playing, Whitney now singing about her greatest love of all. </p><p>“This is really good,” Prior says around his forkful. </p><p>“It’s nothing.” But Belize is smiling like he’s pleased and Prior’s stomach flutters. </p><p>“So talk.” </p><p>Belize takes a sip of Chianti. “Justyn is taking a Doctors Without Borders job in Sudan.”</p><p>“Oh shit.”</p><p>Belize snorts. “Yeah. He told me a few weeks ago. We discussed it like mature adults, weighed the pros and cons of keeping this thing going. It’s an open-ended appointment and he’s going somewhere racked by civil war. So we decided to be realistic about it all and cut ties. He left yesterday.”  </p><p>Prior reaches out and squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry, baby. Jesus, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”</p><p>Belize looks at their hands. “Because distance and logistics weren’t the only factors in our decision-making.”</p><p>Prior’s chest goes tight. </p><p>“I mean yes, it was also that. But this just happened to be an excuse to end things that were probably on their way to ending anyway. And he knew it, too.” </p><p>“You haven’t saId anything.” Prior gulps down some wine. </p><p>“Well, no.” Belize levels him with an unreadable look. “Because that would mean you and me actually having a conversation about what’s been going on between us these past four months.”</p><p>The words feel like ice down his back. He pulls his hand away from Belize’s, concentrates on his food. </p><p>Belize snorts. “<i>Okay</i>, then, girlfriend. Forget I mentioned it.”</p><p>The tension in the air is thick. Prior hates it, but he also doesn’t know if he’s ready for this conversation. </p><p>His entire life has changed recently and all things considered — angels and prophets aside — he thinks he’s handling it pretty damn well now. Belize has been the one constant in his life and the thought of any aspect of their relationship changing is — terrifying. Maybe even scarier than dying. </p><p>He drops his fork, the metal clattering on the plate. “This isn’t — look, I can’t deal with losing you too. And us,” he waves a hand between them. “Starting something now. It’s terrible timing and it makes no sense and I don’t need your pity, alright?”</p><p>Belize’s mouth tightens, his eyes narrowing. “<i>Pity</i>. That’s what you think? You have any idea, sugar, what it has felt like to leave your place and go back to my boyfriend and not be able to stop thinking about you? <i>Pity</i> would have been easier.”</p><p>Prior’s heart flips in his chest. He ignores it, shaking his head, looking down and away. “It’s. You wouldn’t be feeling this way if I hadn’t gotten sick, if Louis hadn’t—”</p><p>Belize grabs his hand, squeezing hard. “Maybe not.  This isn’t revisionist history; I told Louis I loved you but was never in love with you. So maybe that was true, until the moment you came back to me, Prior. And maybe ever since then it’s felt like some sort of sign. And this thing with Justyn is simply another one.”</p><p>Prior lets out a breath, lacing his fingers through Belize’s. “It’s an awful idea. We both just got out of long term relationships. C'est de la folie.”</p><p>“It’s not like we just met, ma belle.”</p><p>“Sometimes I really hate your ability to rationalize. And why the fuck are we doing this over spaghetti?”</p><p>“Excuse you, it’s linguine.” </p><p>Prior lets out a short, hysterical laugh and Belize follows suit. They sit there, half touched dinner between them and hands still clasped, laughing until it slowly tapers off. </p><p>Belize gets up and extends his hand. Prior takes it, standing on shaky legs, right in Belize’s space. </p><p>Belize’s hands come to rest on his shoulders before sliding up and down his arms, reassuringly. “This isn’t completely new, baby. It’s just another form of us.”</p><p>He’s nodding before Belize even finishes speaking, resolve weakening, fear giving way to his heart’s desire. “I realize I left you hanging earlier.”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I can’t stop thinking about you either.”</p><p>Belize’s smile is slow and soft, transforming his face and making his eyes shine. He starts to lean in and Prior puts a hand on his chest. </p><p>“Wait.” He tips their foreheads together. “I don’t know what sex is going to look like, here. You keep turning me on without turning me on, if that makes sense? And then there’s the whole… AIDS... thing, and—”</p><p>“Shhh, je veux seulement t'embrasser.”</p><p>Prior scoffs. “You aren’t going to be satisfied with just kissing.”</p><p>“Mm, and why not? We do that pretty well.” </p><p>“And that’s another thing! Even if I can, what if we still aren’t fully compatible that way?”</p><p>Belize huffs out a laugh. “Given all this sexual tension lately, darling, I sincerely doubt that.” </p><p>“Belize—”</p><p>Belize puts a finger to his lips. “We’ll figure out the rest, baby. And we’ll take it as slow as you need. I’m not going anywhere.” He traces the tip of his finger across Prior’s mouth, making him tremble. </p><p>Prior tilts his chin up, stepping back against the wall and pulling Belize with him. “Okay,” he whispers. “Kiss me.”</p><p>There’s no hesitation this time, no ambiguity. This is just them — sober and level-headed — having arrived at something unforeseeable yet, in a way, ineluctable. </p><p>Their lips meet, mouths slotting together in that familiar fashion. Prior wraps his arms around Belize’s waist and moves into it, slow and sure. They’ve got no reason to stop, nowhere else to be but here. Prior smiles, feels Belize’s answering one against his lips. </p><p>He’s still sick and he’s still a bit heartbroken, but for the first time in months life “A.L.” feels like something Prior is looking forward to. </p><p>End</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Gifs of the kisses referred to are <a href="https://nextstopwonderland.tumblr.com/post/644555637374795776/im-sorry-baby">here</a> and <a href="https://nextstopwonderland.tumblr.com/post/644470158303379456/ciao-baby">here</a>. </p><p>French translations: </p><p>Je ne le sais pas! = Don’t I know it!<br/>Vous parlez français? = You speak French?<br/>Oui, un peu = Yes, a little.<br/>Moi aussi! = Me too!<br/>Je suis désolé = I’m sorry<br/>je veux seulement t'embrasser = I only want to kiss you<br/>c'est de la folie. = this is crazy</p><p>Comments are ❤️<br/>Find me on tumblr @ nextstopwonderland</p></blockquote></div></div>
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